


Tomorrow, In A Year

by elanorelle



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorelle/pseuds/elanorelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first he hates the idea – why would he want to repeat what's been pretty much the worst year of his life – but eventually he comes to see it as an opportunity, like he's been given a chance to start over. (Spoilers for 3x02)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow, In A Year

**Author's Note:**

> I am largely reconciled to the "Blaine is a junior" thing, mostly because if I got upset and stayed that way with everything Glee does to piss me off I would have stopped watching after the Pilot. I still think it's a completely shoddy piece of retconning, mind, but seeing as how RIB are more than likely to a) change their minds five episodes from now, seriously, and b) do fifty other things this season that will piss me off just as much, I'm trying not to let myself get too irate this early on.
> 
> Anyway, logic dictates that just because Blaine might be in the year below Kurt, that doesn't mean he has to be younger than him, and so here is the headcanon I am currently swimming about in happily. May it hopefully work for some of you others as well! ♥
> 
> Officially spoilers for 3x02 now, I guess. Title from The Knife.

It's a condition of Blaine's acceptance at Dalton, that he repeat freshman year, both because of all the school he's missed since the Sadie Hawkins incident and also because the credits he has just don't add up in a way that satisfies Dalton's stricter academic standards.

At first he hates the idea – why would he want to repeat what's been pretty much the worst year of his life – but eventually he comes to see it as an opportunity, like he's been given a chance to start over.

He thinks the work might be easier, considering he's already done this once, but turns out Dalton really _is_ a lot tougher, and honestly Blaine's just as much a freshman as all the other guys when he starts there in the fall.

It's still a little weird having his sixteenth birthday before most of the guys in his classes have even turned fifteen, but he adjusts. They call him "old man" and "grandpa" and "Anderson Senior" (as opposed to "Anderson Junior"; otherwise known as Tony, who skipped a year in elementary school), but nobody once calls him "fag" or "homo" or "cocksucking queer" and that's what matters, in the end.

.

He knows Kurt's surprised when he says he's only a sophomore the third time or so they hang out.

"Really?" he says, arching one eyebrow. There is something so precise and pointed in all of Kurt's movements and expressions, Blaine finds it fascinating. "You're younger than me? But I thought—"

Blaine shakes his head. "I'm not," he says. "Younger, I mean. In fact, when's your birthday?"

Kurt tells him.

"I'm actually a couple months older than you, in that case," Blaine points out, with a smirk.

Kurt frowns. "Then how—"

"I had to repeat," Blaine says. "After—" he pauses. He hasn't told Kurt about Sadie Hawkins – hasn't told many people, really, except Wes and David, and the school guidance counsellor, though probably she'd already known from looking at his transfer notes – and though he likes Kurt a lot he doesn't feel ready to talk about it just yet. He doesn't know how much help it would be anyway: Kurt's got his own problems to deal with, and bringing up Blaine's traumatic past would feel almost too much like one-upmanship. He doesn't want Kurt to feel like his experiences are any less worthy of concern just because Blaine has some scars to show for his. Kurt has scars, too, he's sure.

"My parents kind of pulled me out of school when the bullying got really bad," is what he eventually says, not straying too far from the truth. He's just leaving out the part where he was in hospital for three weeks and at home in bed for most of the month after that. "Dalton weren't prepared to take me as a sophomore with an incomplete academic record, so I had to start again as a freshman."

Kurt's brow smoothes out and he tuts in sympathy. "That can't have been fun," he says.

Blaine shrugs. "I'm kind of glad I did it, to be honest."

Kurt's eyebrow arches again. "Really? I can't imagine ever wanting to relive the most awkward year of my life," he says.

Blaine smiles at the familiarity of the sentiment. "It wasn't so bad," he says. "Dalton is— well, you've seen what it's like."

"Yes," Kurt says, almost too quiet to hear. His expression has sharpened into something sad and longing, and not for the first time, Blaine wishes he could just take this boy's life and make it _better_ , in some small way if not in its entirety. He wishes he could make a difference.

He settles for a pat on the shoulder and is rewarded with a smile that doesn't look like it's seen a lot of use. Blaine would like to change that, he thinks maybe he might just be able to.

"So," Kurt says, sipping at his coffee delicately. "How exactly _does_ a lowly sophomore get the part of lead soloist for the Dalton Academy Warblers?"

Blaine shrugs and says, casually: "Blackmail. Seriously you should _see_ some of the things I have on Wes and David. And Thad, oh my _god_."

Kurt smiles again, and Blaine wonders how long it will be before he sees Kurt laugh.

However long it takes, he thinks it'll be worth it.

.

He honestly doesn't think too much about the fact that they're in different grades until the summer, when they start talking about Blaine transferring to McKinley.

Actually, they end up fighting about it – their first real fight, and it's just as awful as Blaine thought it would be – because yes of _course_ Blaine wants to be able to spend more time with Kurt, but has Kurt actually thought about the fact that if Blaine transfers, he'll have to spend a whole year at McKinley _without_ him? That he'll have to leave his friends and the security of Dalton behind, all for the purpose of one year with his boyfriend?

It ends with Kurt saying if _he_ could stand it for almost three years, he's sure Blaine could manage it for just one (unless he'd rather stay safe in his private school bubble?), and Blaine storming out of Kurt's house and driving halfway home before he realises he's left his phone behind.

He'd leave it there, except his parents are out of town this weekend and have made him promise to keep his phone on him at all times, so he turns the car around and heads back the way he came, only to find Kurt sitting on the front step turning Blaine's phone round and round in his hands fretfully, his face red and blotchy with tears.

"I'm sorry," he says, before Blaine's even finished getting out of the car. "I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm _so_ sorry, please, you have to believe that I didn't mean any of that."

Blaine thinks he did, at least a little, but he believes Kurt when he says he's sorry for it, and so he pulls Kurt into his arms and says: "I know, I know, it's okay," his cheek pressed up hot and damp against Kurt's.

They wind up curled together on Kurt's bed, sharing salty, wet kisses and clinging to each other like they've skipped ahead twelve months already to that day Blaine's trying not to think about too hard.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says again into Blaine's shirt collar. "It's selfish, I know it is, _I'm_ selfish, I shouldn't be asking this of you."

"Hey," Blaine says, running a hand up Kurt's back and bringing it to rest on the back of his neck. "It's not selfish, Kurt. It's _not_." He repeats the point when he feels Kurt shaking his head against his shoulder.

"How can I ask you to do this when it means you'll have to stay there by yourself for a whole year after I'm gone?"

Blaine shrugs. "Like you said, you did it."

Kurt cringes, almost a full-body shudder. "That's— _god_ , that's not the point, Blaine. I had to, I didn't have a _choice_. You have a choice, and I can't ask you to choose to be somewhere like McKinley, all by yourself, after all you've been through."

"Yes, you can," Blaine says.

Kurt sniffs. "Why?"

"Because I love you," Blaine murmurs into Kurt's hair. "No, I do," he says, when Kurt snorts derisively. He puts a hand to Kurt's face and waits until Kurt looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes before he continues: "I love you so much, Kurt, and it's not selfish of you to want us to spend as much of this year together as we possibly can, because I want that too, all right? I want that more than anything."

Kurt blinks, and he's not a pretty crier in the least but Blaine doesn't think he's ever seen anyone more beautiful, even tear-stained and snotty like this.

"So," he says, and Blaine can tell he's trying not to sound too hopeful. "Does that mean you want to transfer?"

Blaine's not going to lie: he doesn't relish the idea of a year at McKinley without Kurt. His parents seem quite pleased with the idea of him returning to public school – they've never really approved of private education, only sent Blaine to Dalton as the solution to a problem – and he knows they'll let him go if he really makes up his mind that he wants to, but ... the fact remains that after this year with Kurt there'll be a whole other year without him, missing him, while Kurt is far away in New York getting started on a life Blaine won't be part of yet, if he ever is.

But he does love Kurt, loves him with a certainty he didn't see coming until suddenly one day it was just _there_ , like the need to breathe, and eat, and sleep: this need to love Kurt Hummel, and be loved by him, and Blaine doesn't see that going away any time soon, so the idea of _not_ taking the opportunity they have of being that much closer for the time they have left seems a tragic waste.

To say that Blaine is conflicted right now would probably be a gross understatement.

"Honestly, I don't know yet," he says with a sigh. "Is that okay?"

Kurt nods fiercely. "Of course, Blaine," he says. "Of course, just ... take as long as you need to decide, okay?"

"School starts in three weeks," Blaine points out. "I promise I'll have made up my mind by then."

"Yes, yes, okay," Kurt says eagerly, kissing Blaine at the corner of his mouth.

If Blaine's being honest, he's already made up his mind by the end of that afternoon in Kurt's bed, somewhere between Kurt's whispered _I love you_ and the slick slide of their skin together and the knowledge that this is what he's giving up more of if he decides to stay at Dalton.

Still, it takes him till the very last moment to come up with the courage to ask his parents to phone McKinley and request the transfer.

.

Senior year isn't nearly as bad as he thought it might be, in the end. He's basically the de facto leader of Glee Club, now, along with Tina, though he's careful to promote equal distribution of solos and not to fall into some of the mistakes he's made before. Mr. Schue still doesn't listen half the time, still has his favourites (the new freshman girl, Mai, is basically Rachel Berry with soul, and a force to be reckoned with), but Blaine and Tina and Artie try to make a difference, try to keep things from getting too competitive. It's not like it's worked too well for them in the past.

He gets made President of the Student Council, too, which is kind of a shock and a thrill until he realises that most people don't even know or care about it, and he still gets slushied just the same in the hallways, even by people who he knows voted him in in the first place. Still, it looks good on his transcripts, as does the debate team, the GSA he and Kurt started last year that Blaine is now in charge of, the 4.0 GPA he keeps up easily when the workload is so much easier than Dalton.

He starts applying for schools almost as soon as they go back in the fall, and by the time spring rolls around he's got acceptances to NYU and Columbia (and Yale, and Berkeley, though his parents are mostly responsible for those and Blaine doesn't give them much more than a second thought), and suddenly the future doesn't seem so far away, anymore.

He misses Kurt, though, as much as he thought he would; more, even. Every day and all the time, like a constant buzzing sadness in the back of his mind that doesn't even really go away when they're talking on the phone or on Skype, or when they're dirty texting each other right in the middle of the school day, when Blaine knows full well Kurt's stuck in class just the same way he is.

But he'd be missing Kurt anyway, whether he was here or still at Dalton, and he'll never believe, not for one second, that last year wasn't worth the relative pain that this one's caused him.

The day he turns nineteen he goes home and finds Kurt sitting on his front doorstep, wearing the jacket he swore he didn't steal from Blaine's closet right before he left for New York and a blinding grin that makes Blaine forget he even owned a jacket in the first place.

"You're here," Blaine says; stupidly, but, _eleven hours_ and he knows Kurt has a lot going on right now, and it's not like he can just drive back and forth whenever he feels like it except apparently he can because, well ... Kurt.

Kurt gives him a look that says _well, obviously_ , but all he actually _says_ is: "Mmhm. I have two days. All my classes until Monday got cancelled because half the faculty got food poisoning at a staff party or something, and while I'd never wish projectile vomiting on anybody, it did seem a rather wonderful coincidence."

Blaine steps a little closer, raises his eyebrows playfully. "Are you sure that's all it was? Coincidence?"

Kurt raises his hand to his chest, mock-offended. "Blaine Anderson, I would never. Not even _you_ would be worth the risk of condemning myself to an orange jumpsuit."

Blaine smiles and grabs Kurt by the hand when he offers it.

Up in Blaine's room, Kurt presses Blaine down into the bed and kisses him, slowly and carefully, rolling their hips together.

"Happy birthday, my jailbait boyfriend," he drawls up against Blaine's mouth afterwards, and okay, it looks like he still isn't tired of that one.

Blaine huffs. "You know I'm still, like, two months older than you, and that's never going to change, right?"

Kurt shrugs. "Semantics," he says. "Fact is, _I_ am a college freshman, and _you_ are a high school senior, and therefore whilst our love cannot exactly be described as Lolita-esque, there is a certain frisson of impropriety to it."

"I'll show _you_ impropriety," Blaine says, and tackles Kurt over onto his back.


End file.
